


The Bait

by Holmes_and_the_Roman



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, I am evil, M/M, Poor Reader, Violence, asshole!Oswald, fUCK ME, only at the beginning, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8678374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holmes_and_the_Roman/pseuds/Holmes_and_the_Roman
Summary: In light of recent events in Gotham, I decided to write a fic for those who ship Oswald Cobblepot/Reader.The Reader has been friends/colleagues with Oswald for a long time. He leads her on, but when she confronts hims, shit hits the fan.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmmyOkami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmmyOkami/gifts).



> Leave a kudos or a comment if you like it please :)

“_Y/n_, my dear, could you help me?” Oswald Cobblepot called to you. You looked up from your desk in your personal office. He was leaning into your open doorway, an impish smile on his face. You curtly nodded, keeping a straight face so that he would not see your emotions. “Good.” He gestured for you to follow him as he left the room.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your heart was beating fast in hope, yet your brain told you that you were annoyed. Of course, you were conflicted about whether or not you should be annoyed.

The issue was this: you could have sworn up, down, and to heaven and back that Oswald was flirting with you. That first time several months back, you were pretty certain he had a hard-on for you. Whenever he spoke to you, he would trip over his words and accidentally utilize slight Freudian slips. At one instance, when he needed to meet with you about his latest business venture, he told you, “All right, Friday’s a date!” He did not correct himself, which made your heart soar. Did he want to pursue a relationship?

When that Friday came, you spent most of your day preparing. You got all dressed up in your most flattering dress, you sat for hours perfecting your makeup, and you got your hair professionally done. When you met with him, he was wearing one of his casual suits. Oswald smiled when he saw you and said, “You look beautiful! What’s the occasion? You have a date tonight?” You had laughed, expecting him to say, “Just kidding!” But he did not. He stared at you, his oblivious face beaming as he awaited your answer.

“Oh,” you said. “I, uh, I’m going out tonight,” you lied quickly.

Oswald chuckled. “Well, whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy!” And then he launched into business.

You had to admit, you did not remember a single thing agreed upon in that meeting. You were just so confused. Before that, you had both had rather intimate conversations about sex, dating, and the like. You had, of course, avoided what you saw as the elephant in the room (sex with Oswald). Also, the physical gestures! The way he mindlessly grasped your hand in conversation or his lack of personal space every now and then drove you mad. He would push strands of your hair behind your ear and give you the most loving glance. All of that would be negated, however.

Some of those who made deals with Oswald would ask, “Are you two together?” Before you could respond, Oswald would make a face and exclaim, “Ugh! No! With her?” He would laugh it off, as would you (to save face), but some nights when he said that, you would go to your office and cry.

 

As you moved toward the hallway, you sighed and wondered what Oswald wanted to talk about. At this point, anything was fair game.

You made it to his parlor, a place where you thought he would never set foot in again, since that was where his saint of a father died in his very arms. In fact, now that you saw Oswald, he was standing in the exact spot where Mr. Van Dahl had passed.

“_Y/n_,” Oswald said, turning to you. “You know I trust you, right?”

You nodded as a shadow of a smile graced your lips. “Of course.”

“Well,” Oswald stopped and sighed. He looked down dreamily and grinned. “I have been thinking for quite some time…”

“Yes?” you interrupted eagerly, your hopes now inching upward.

“It’s been so hard for me to say it…”

Your breathing hitched. “It’s OK, Oswald, you can just say it,” you murmured.

He chuckled softly and looked deeply into your eyes. “You’re so encouraging, _y/n_. That’s one of the greatest things about you.” He took a deep breath. “OK, I’m going to just say what I’ve never said to anyone. I just cannot deny this feeling.”

Your head was spinning and your knees wobbled. Your heart beat a mile a minute. You were prepared for him to finally admit his feelings for you.

“I’m in love with Ed Nygma.”

“I love—” you said simultaneously with Oswald’s statement. You stopped, not truly registering Oswald’s statement. “Wait, what?”

“I’m in love with Edward Nygma.” He let out a sigh of relief. “That feels so good to say it out loud!” He sat in his father’s wingback chair.

“Edward… Nygma?” you repeated.

“You know, the former medical examiner for the GCPD? He was in Arkham, too?” Oswald explained.

“Yeah, I know him…” you said.

“Good! Well, I need your help.”

You tried to shake yourself from the daze you had fallen in. “What do you need?”

“I want to tell him that I love him. I don’t know how.” He paused. “I was thinking about having a nice dinner with him. But I don’t know where to go or what to do. And I know you’re good at this kind of stuff,” Oswald said.

“So what do you want me to do?” you asked.

“I want you to plan the date. I think you know me better than I know me. I mean, we’ve known each other for years.” Oswald stood and approached your frozen figure. “So will you do it?”

You nodded slowly.

“Good!” Oswald rubbed your upper arm. You must have flinched, because his face fell as he genuinely saw your expression for the first time since his news. “Are you OK? You look like you’re going to be ill, _y/n_.”

“No, I’m fine,” you replied, your voice wispy. You turned to leave the room, and you heard Oswald go about his business.

Suddenly, you stopped at the door. You had finally come to your senses and decided that, yes, you were justified in your annoyance.

“You know what, Oswald? No,” you spat without looking at him.

Oswald’s eyes shot up in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

You whipped around and glared at him, your shoulders squared up. “No, Oswald. I am NOT fine.”

“Oh, I’m…sorry. You’re sick?”

You scoffed. “Yeah. Sick of you.”

Oswald chuckled in puzzlement. “I-I don’t think I understand, _y/n_.”

“That’s the problem. You don’t fucking understand. You don’t understand what you’ve done!”

Oswald backed up. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, _y/n_,” he stated.

“You wanna know what’s gotten into me? You! You have gotten into me. You have tortured me emotionally for seven damn months, Oswald. Seven months I’ve tolerated your little hot-and-cold game! Seven months I’ve laughed off your statements: ‘Ew, I could never date her.’ And all your fucking mind games,” you seethed.

“What mind games? You’re not making any sense!”

“You fucking led me on, Oswald! You made me think that you loved me! The little touches, the sweet gestures, those were all just games to you!” There was a pause where you allowed Oswald to speak, but he did not. “You hurt me, Oswald. You led me on; you played me for a damn fool. You made me love you, only for you to say that you love someone else.”

“_Y/n_,”Oswald started.

“Shut the fuck up, Oswald. You had your chance to talk and you didn’t.” You jabbed a finger toward him. “I’ve known you longer than I have known anyone in my life. I never wanted to fall for you. Honestly, I didn’t. But then you started all this. The intimate talks. The innuendos. I fell so hard for you, Oswald. Hell, I was willing to die for you. I would have taken a bullet if it meant you would admit to me that you loved me. I’m pretty sure I would fucking take one for you now, I love you so damn much. And that’s my mistake,” you ranted. Your head spun with the words you had just said.

Oswald nodded in understanding, still trying to find words to say. “Yes, it is your mistake.”

Your thoughts shattered. You had not expected that.

“It is definitely your mistake. I never did anything to you that hinted at the desire for a relationship. It’s you. You misinterpreted everything!”

Your brows furrowed in rage as hot tears sprang to your eyes.

Oswald laughed humorlessly. “God, you’re so fucking stupid, _y/n_! You actually thought I loved you? That’s fucking pathetic. You got it all wrong!”

You pursed your lips as one damned solitary tear escaped your eyes. “Go to hell, Oswald,” you said in a strained voice.

“I’ll meet you there,” Oswald hissed venomously.

You shut your eyes, prompting more tears to fall. You turned slowly and walked to the doorway.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, Oswald,” you said over your shoulder as you stopped at the doorway.

“You never knew him,” Oswald stated.

“From what you said, he was a good man.” You paused. “But I did know your mother, and I know that she would definitely be ashamed of you,” you said quickly.

You knew you had hit a nerve by mentioning Gertrud, so you stalked away as quickly as you could. As you retreated to your office, you heard Oswald roar, “DON’T YOU DARE MENTION MY MOTHER, YOU CUNT! FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH!” Something shattered against a wall, causing you to jump into your office and lock the door behind you.

You packed your briefcase with shaking hands, the screaming still going on in the other room. You cried as you threw papers into folders and emptied your desk drawers.

When you had finished gathering your things, you noticed that Oswald’s shouting had stopped. You opened your door and made a beeline out of the house and to your car. As you opened the front door, you heard a whimper from the parlor.

“_Y/n_?” Oswald called. You flinched, but kept walking. “_Y/n_!” his desperate voice cracked in that pathetic way you had always melted at.

“Good-bye, Oswald,” you growled, your heels crunching in the gravel as you made your way to the garage.

“No, _y/n_, please!” You heard Oswald’s uneven gait against the gravel. You could imagine how pathetic he looked, and you stopped yourself from turning around. You fished your keys from your purse and unlocked your car.

“Oh, God, please. _Y/n_, please! I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean any of that! I didn’t mean a word of what I said in there!” Oswald sobbed.

As you threw your stuff in the backseat of your car, you finally allowed yourself to glance at the man who followed you.

“Jesus Christ, Oswald,” you breathed to yourself upon seeing him. He had left his cane inside, and, since he had matched your gait (which was almost a sprint), his limp had gotten worse. His beaky nose and his beautiful eyes were red while the rest of his face was white. Tears were spilling from his eyes, and his hands were shaking.

“Please, _y/n_, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!” he begged, his voice breaking again. He suddenly fell to his knees, the gravel painfully crunching beneath his knees. He winced and grunted pitifully.

“No, Oswald!” you exclaimed in shock, your eyes widening.

He clasped his hands together prayer-like and looked up at you. “Please, _y/n_, don’t leave me! I can’t do anything without you. You’re my rock!”

For a moment, you almost took pity on him. You paused and gazed at him in curiosity. His ragged breathing sliced through the silence.

“You don’t need me.” You slammed the back door of your car. Oswald lowered his hands. “You’ve got Mr. Nygma.” You finally turned your back on Oswald to get into the driver’s seat of your car.

“No! _Y/n_!” You heard a thud and felt arm wrap around your leg. You stumbled and looked down to see Oswald at his lowest, quite literally. He was clutching your leg, trying to make you stay.

“Get off me,” you started calmly.

“Jesus, please! Don’t go!” Oswald screamed, clawing at your calf.

“Fucking get off me, Oswald!” You were beginning to lose your patience. You tried to gently shake your leg, but Oswald had no intention of letting go.

You realized that you were going to have to resort to violence to get him off you. You opened your car door to make a quick getaway, and you jerked your heel towards his face.

You heard a small crack, followed by, “Ah! Fuck!” Oswald let go of your leg and you quickly jumped into your car and locked the door.

For a few seconds, you fumbled with the keys. You then saw Oswald’s body slam against the driver’s side window. You jumped and looked at him, seeing what you had done. His nose and mouth was covered in blood, the effect of his broken nose thanks to your heel. Oswald flattened his hands on your window, a bit of blood smearing on the glass.

“_Y/n_,” he pleaded, his voice sounding muffled against the glass.

You shook your head, cranked your car and began backing up. Oswald was smart enough to back away from your car to avoid getting injured any further. You changed gears and drove away, Oswald getting smaller in your rearview mirror.

 

He could not tell Ed that he loved him. Oswald could not get the words out. Every time he wanted to tell Ed, he thought of you, and it nearly killed him.

A few weeks after you walked out of his life, he realized that the one person who had only ever reciprocated his feelings had given up on him. She gave up.

Now that he was mayor, he had a million more things on his mind. To think about love, unfortunately, was a luxury, as many things distracted him.

One afternoon, when he was free to do what he pleased, he escaped his worries by going to a bar in the red light district. Oswald pondered on deep thoughts of sexuality as he downed drink after drink. Did he truly want Ed? Or did he want you? Or both of you?

“Hey,” a man’s voice said to Oswald. He looked to the source of the voice to find a handsome gentleman smiling at him.

“I’m not in the mood for pleasantries, sir. So, good evening to you,” Oswald muttered, finishing the last of his whiskey. Oswald waved over the bartender. “Another.”

The bartender glowered. “That’s your fourth one. I’m gonna have to cut you off,” he said matter-of-factly.  
Oswald sneered. “I’m the fucking mayor, so get me another whiskey or I’ll send your eyes without you to the missus!”

The bartender obeyed and placed another whiskey in front of Oswald.

The gentleman, who had witnessed the exchange, laughed. “Tough guy, huh?”

Oswald rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t want to be bothered with tonight. Good evening,” he snapped, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m Ben,” the man said as he held out his hand.

“I’m getting annoyed,” Oswald replied.

“Don’t drown your sorrows, Mayor. If that’s who you really are,” Ben said.

Oswald stared at Ben, incredulous. “Are you kidding? Have you watched or even read the news?”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t follow politics.” He cocked his head, looking Oswald up and down. “So what’s eating you?”

“Ugh, don’t start that.” Oswald rolled his eyes.

“Work-related?” Ben guessed. Oswald shook his head, not wanting to play this guessing game. “Parents? Coworkers? Girlfriend troubles? Boyfriend troubles?”

“That’s enough!” Oswald shouted.

“Boyfriend troubles it is,” Ben smirked. Oswald positioned himself away from Ben and took another sip of his whiskey.

“You know,” Ben said softly. He gently placed his hand on Oswald’s knee and stroked it with his thumb. “I can help you take your mind off of it.”

Oswald blinked and slightly turned his head toward Ben. “Oh, yeah?” Oswald challenged flatly.

Ben stood and leaned towards Oswald’s ear, dragging his hand up Oswald’s thigh seductively. “No charge for the Mayor of Gotham,” Ben murmurmed, his breath tickling Oswald’s neck. Ben sauntered through a door at the back of the bar.

Oswald started to get up, but only then did he realize that he was half hard in his pants. His cheeks burned red as he contemplated Ben’s offer.

 

Ed arrived at Oswald’s inherited mansion as per the instructions Oswald sent him. Having been given his own key, Ed let himself in.

“Mr. Penguin?” he called into the foyer. “Oswald?” Silence.

Ed shut the front door behind him as he carefully stepped through the foyer. “I received your instructions,” he called again.

“Ed,” Oswald said from your old office area. Ed spun to face the short Mayor. “I’m so glad you could make it.” Oswald smiled and gestured for Ed to follow him into the unused room.

“You know,” Ed began. Oswald closed the door as soon as Ed was in the room. “You’re horrible at riddles.”

Oswald laughed. “I wasn’t trying to send you a riddle.”

Ed smiled. “That’s why it was horrible,” he said. There was a pause. “Why did you want me to come here? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, goodness, nothing’s wrong, Ed! No, no. Quite the opposite, actually,” Oswald assured Ed. He began to step closer to the taller man. “I was having a drink when this gentleman came up to me. He reminded me of how much you mean to me. And after that I just had to…see you. So, nothing’s wrong.”

“What’s the opposite of nothing being wrong, then?” Ed asked, noticing Oswald approaching him. His breathing got heavier.  
Oswald finally came so close to Ed that their noses might have touched if Oswald had been tall enough. “I suppose everything is right,” Oswald replied.

Oswald suddenly raised himself up on his tiptoes and kissed Ed passionately. He dropped his cane and grasped Ed’s face. Ed was tense at first, but as he relaxed into the kiss, he brought his hands to Oswald’s shoulders.

They broke the kiss for air. Ed exclaimed, panting, “I didn’t know you felt this way about me, Mr. Penguin.”

Oswald said between planting kisses along Ed’s mouth, “Ed… under the… circumstances… I think you should… call me Oswald.”

Ed nodded and dominated the next kiss, flicking his tongue into Oswald’s mouth. He busied his nimble hands with unbuttoning Oswald’s suit jacket and vest.

All of a sudden, Oswald jolted back down from the high he was on. He stopped kissing Ed back, letting the taller man continue his work on the jacket and vest. His eyes glazed over as his growing erection fell limp again. He had made the mistake of remembering what you had told him weeks before: “You’ve got Mr. Nygma.”

“Oswald,” Ed moaned, abruptly jerking off Oswald’s jacket. He began to kiss and suck on Oswald’s jawline.

Oswald came back to reality. He backed away from Ed’s touch. “I’m…I’m sorry, Ed,” he said quietly.

“Oswald?” Ed questioned, his brown eyes watching Oswald’s reaction. “Did I do something—”

“No, Ed, no. You did nothing wrong. It’s just…” Oswald paused, his thoughts only on you now. He realized everything he had done to you when Ed had told him that he did not have a clue about Oswald’s attraction to him.

“It’s just what?” Ed repeated.

Oswald locked eyesight with Ed. “I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

 

You stood as still as the statues around you in the cold. It was lightly misting, and you could feel each little pinprick of a water droplet on your face. You did not break your gaze, however, which was on the gravestone of Gertrud Kapelput.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kapelput. I let your son down,” you said to the stone. “I let my emotions get in the way.” Your eyes began to sting with tears. “And now I’ve lost him!” You wiped your eyes with your sleeves. “God, I was so stupid. Honestly, I shouldn’t have expected him to love me.” You laughed through your tears. “Of course he wouldn’t love me, with you always going on about how he shouldn’t get caught up in some demon hussy’s purse. I’m not blaming you, Mrs. Kapelput. I understand why you did it. You wanted to protect him from women like me.”

“She would have been proud I had found a woman like you, _y/n_,” Oswald’s voice called behind you.

You whirled around, a dash of fear in your eyes.

Oswald threw his hands up in a calming fashion. “It’s OK, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him stupidly. “Sorry. It’s your mother’s grave. I shouldn’t be asking you that.”

“I come here sometimes to talk through things. I feel like Mother still listens,” Oswald explained.

You nodded. “Same here. It helps me work through shit, you know?”

Oswald sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, _y/n_. For everything. For leading you on, for yelling at you. Everything. I do…_y/n_, I do l-love you.”

“What about Ed?”

“I didn’t understand love even though it was sitting right in front of me. You’ve loved me for years and I didn’t see it,” Oswald confessed.

You looked down and shuffled your feet. “You seriously hurt me, Oswald. And the outburst—”

“Will never happen again,” Oswald interrupted.

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to believe that? What if that’s what you really think of me? I don’t want to fall in another trap.”

Oswald’s face fell, but he nodded. “I understand. I understand completely. And if you never want to see me again, I will respect your wishes. If you want to…I don’t know, break my nose again, I’ll deserve it. And I won’t fight back. But I am telling the truth when I say I need you, _y/n_. I’ll always need you.” Oswald poured his heart out, and his eyes glowed in anticipation of your response.

You furrowed your brow and sighed, the pain of his earlier words still heavy on your heart. You reflected on his apology, trying to find any find print in his words.

You looked up into his eyes, his beautiful clear eyes. You tried not to showany inkling of emotion until you told him your decision. You finally took a deep breath and spoke.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Gotham or any characters affiliated with the TV show. All rights go to the creators and Fox Broadcasting Company.


End file.
